Sarah gasped. Just my luck that they aren’t here for a bucket of extra crispy. Shivers ran up and down her spine as she debated whether to make a run for it or play dumb. As much as she fancied the idea of dashing for the nearest exit, she realized her sprint probably wouldn’t get her further than the nearest table.
“We’ve tracked her here,” the knight continued, whipping out his sword. “Point her out, and we shall leave in peace.”
Sarah’s gaze wandered from the tall, hairy guy to the gleaming blade in his hand, frightening in the dim light. People dropped to the ground, scurrying under tables and whimpering. “Oh my gosh,” whispered Sarah. “Are you telling me I’ve somehow managed to piss off two kings? How’s this possible?”
“You better run, dear,” the elderly woman whispered.
Sarah shot her a sideway glance. “I really am a nice person.” Sarah paused, gathering her thoughts. “Really, I am. Everyone loves me. I don’t make enemies. This is way too much for me.”
“I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job considering you have two of the most powerful Immortals on your tail,” said Jules, “and on mine too,” he added.
The knight wrapped his hand in the serving wench’s hair and yanked, hissing, “Where is she, wench? Tell me, and perhaps you will live to serve these miscreants another day.”
Another knight knocked over a thick pillar candle on one of the tables. “We shall have no regrets burning this hole to ash if that becomes necessary!” he shouted.
Sarah peered up from under her hood at the two women pouring liquid from a brown mug over the smoldering flame that was threatening to ignite a nearby table.
“Tell me if the woman I’m looking for has been here or is in your fine establishment,” the first knight continued.
The wench frowned and looked at Sarah, as if debating whether she should keep quiet or rat her out.
Sarah frowned and bobbed her head ever so slightly, her eyes imploring the woman to keep quiet. Her life depended on the kind stranger.
The knight pulled out his jewel-studded dagger and held it to the woman’s throat.
The hostage’s eyes bulged like a deer in the headlights. Pointing straight at Sarah, the woman said, “She wears the mark of the Immortals.”
The knight threw the woman against a table, sending cups and mugs crashing to the ground. He met Sarah’s gaze. “In the name of the king, you are under arrest for the crime of heresy. You are scheduled for execution. Surrender to me now, and I will make this as painless as possible.”
Wait…did she just tattle on me? What happened to girl power? Aren’t girls supposed to stick together? Sarah shook her head. Boy, she really is a wench. There goes her tip, that’s for sure. Her heart racing, Sarah knelt and crawled under the wooden tables, bumping into everyone’s grubby legs along the way. Jules and Frank trailed close behind. Her hand stuck in something red and gooey, and she quickly wiped it on her cloak, bumping her head. Mice squeaked and squealed, none too happy to be interrupted from their feast of chicken bones, orange peels, and apple cores that littered the ground. She made it to the end of the table and peeked out to meet the eyes of a dreaded knight.
He smiled, showing off the gap where his two missing front teeth used to be. “There she is!” he yelled.
Frank pointed the tranquilizer gun and pulled the trigger. “Go Sarah!”
The knight jumped back startled and pulled the dart out of his chest. Sarah raced for the counter and jumped, easily soaring over it. She’d no idea how she could possibly jump that high, but she was aware that adrenaline could do some crazy things. Landing on her feet, she turned and reached out her hands, dragging Jules over, then Frank. There has to be a way out. There just has to be, she thought.
“I lost the gun!” Frank said. “He kicked it out of my hand.”
The bartender stood in the corner, cowering. “I told you I didn’t want any trouble,” he hissed.
Sarah grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Please help us. This nutcase is going to kill me.”
“Surely you’re an honorable man, sir. You can’t let them hurt an innocent woman over a case of mistaken identity,” Frank said.
The bartender pointed. “Get to the basement. In the back, under crates of vegetables, is a door that leads to a tunnel,” he whispered.
Everything happened in slow motion. Sarah ran toward the doorway that led to the basement, but she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her back. She spun around to see the knight holding a crossbow. He squinted, as if taking careful aim not to miss his target. Before she could blink, more arrows shot through the air. In the next second, another one pierced her heart. Pain radiated through her chest. Frank and Jules yelled. Patrons screamed. Her breath became labored as she dropped to the ground, her face slamming against the cold, dirt floor.
“Evil must be stopped!” yelled the knight. “Your sacrifice will save our land.”
Sarah groaned inwardly. She didn’t have one evil bone in her body. Scamming the king was wrong, and stealing somebody’s identity was too. She only did it out of desperation to get home, to get out of a world she didn’t belong in. Her vision blurred, and her body went limp. She couldn’t even move a muscle, let alone scream. Blinking, she tried to clear her vision.
“That ain’t happening!” Frank scooped her up in his arms.
A door squeaked open, and footsteps thudded down a steep set of stairs. Sarah could feel her head bouncing back and forth, as if she was some kind of inanimate bobble-head doll on a dashboard.
“Keep going! I’ll hold them back,” yelled Jules, barricading the door behind him with giant jugs of ale that he dragged across the floor.
Sarah drew in a shaky breath as pain rippled across her chest. She let out a small gurgling sound.
“Oh, Sarah,” Frank pleaded, his voice wavering. “Don’t you die on me, girl.”
She reached up to stroke his cheek. “I’m sorry, Frank…so sorry.”
“Hang on!” said Frank, squeezing her hand.
“I’m…I’m dying,” Sarah whispered.
He shook his head vehemently, his eyes wide, teeming with an emotion she couldn’t place. “No! Don’t you say that. Don’t you dare die on me, Sarah.”
Spots danced in her vision. Is this the way it’s going to end? Am I really going to die here, in the basement of some medieval tavern? She didn’t want to die without knowing what had happened to Liz. “When you find my sister, tell her I love her.”
Frank’s voice wavered. “You’re going to tell her that yourself.”
A loud rattle made her jump.
“Those knights pounding on that door might not agree with…with you,” Sarah said with a pained gasp, squeezing Frank’s hand tightly.
“They’re coming!” yelled Jules. “Hurry!”
She choked on a ragged breath. Her vision blurred even more, and she blinked again, to no avail. Voices became faint and then trailed off. And then, there was only darkness.
Chapter 10
Sarah’s eyes fluttered open. Through a foggy haze, she took in the bright light and the brownish stains on her fingers when realization set in: She’d been shot with an arrow—twice. Someone was pushing down hard on her chest, making it very difficult to breathe. Pain flooded her chest, pushing her to the edge of her consciousness. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
A voice hissed to her right, the words too low to distinguish. She turned her head sharply, flinching against the sudden jolt of pain rippling through her. “What do you want me to do?!” shouted Jules. “I’m not a healer! She was shot directly in the heart. I’ve never seen anybody survive such an injury, not even for this long.”
“You must know someone who can help,” the first voice said again.
Sarah could hear their voices coming from all directions. She wanted to answer, but the words remained frozen in her throat. The sweet smell of incense filled her nostrils. Beams of light shone down on her. Divine light? Staring upward, she let out a groan. Stained
glass…vaulted ceilings. Painted angels? Am I in heaven or on my way there? Being dead would at least end the pain rippling through her, but she still had so much to do. My life can’t end now—not like this.
A picture of a chubby cherub caught her eye. Maybe this is just a renaissance art gallery. She peered closer at the ceiling, which rested on six Tuscan columns of great height. Nice architecture. Soaring round iron candelabras hung from the ceiling, capturing her attention, as she stared at flickering flames, trying to make sense of everything. Light shone through multiple stained glass windows in a hue of vivid, glowing rainbow colors, the sun making the mosaic patterns sparkle and shine. She surmised that she had to be in some kind of church.
“Sarah,” the first voice said.
She turned her head, taking in the blurred shapes. Her gaze sharpened, allowing her to recognize Frank.
He inched closer until his nose was inches away from her face. “We’ll get you out of this…alive.”
“Don’t make promises you may not be able to keep,” Jules said matter-of-factly.
Frank pulled back, hesitating. “I got the arrows out.”
“Yes, but she’s still losing much blood,” Jules said.
She would’ve liked to point out that she could hear every word they said, but somehow it didn’t register with her that they were talking about her. They couldn’t be. Surely I’m not the one hurt and covered in blood. Did he say an arrow went through my…my heart?
“Send for a healer and get me some antiseptic of some sort…you know, something with a high alcohol content,” Frank said.
“You want a drink when your woman is dying?”
“Well I could use a stiff one right about now, but I need it to sterilize the wound.” Frank’s voice echoed through the large room, cutting through the silence like a knife as he jumped to his feet, peering around him. If he was looking for some good old whiskey, he wasn’t likely going to find it there. “It always works in the movies when those cowboys pour moonshine on a bullet wound,” he continued.
“Movies?” Jules asked. “And I know we have wolf people, but what are cow boys?”
Frank dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “It’s not important,” Frank said. “Please just go. Sarah’s life’s at stake.”
“They’re counting on us to look for help. Guards will be stationed all over the healer’s cottage.”
“I’ll go myself then,” Frank demanded.
“Have you gone mad? Perhaps you took an arrow to the head.”
“Just tell me where to go. Please, Jules. I can’t just stand here and watch her die without doing anything. What if it were Mia?”
Sarah moaned. “Bon Jovi would be proud,” she said.
“Huh?” Frank said, kneeling down and grabbing her hand.
“Yeah. Brings a whole new meaning to ‘Shot Through the Heart,” she said, attempting a crooked smile
“Sarah, can you hear me?” Frank asked.
“Did the serving wench pack me a doggy bag?” she whispered. “I wasn’t finished with the duck.”
Smiling, he stroked her face. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Welcome back to the land of the living.”
“Frank…” She squinted, her gaze searching his hazel eyes. “Where…where are we? This can’t be heaven. There’s no way they’d let you past the pearly gates.”
He laughed, happy to hear her voice, in spite of her banter. “We’re in a chapel. Jules has a friend who’s a priest.”
Sarah was lying on something hard, a wooden pew. She groaned and tried to move her aching bones. “Surely you could’ve found a rug or something to squeeze under me. My back’s killing me.” Pushing up on her elbows, she sat up and noticed that the room was illuminated with hundreds of candles in the front of the church, placed meticulously around a wooden altar decorated with a gold and white cloth. Her hand flew to where Frank had applied pressure rags. “I should be…dead.” She scrambled to her feet, and the bloody rags fell to the floor. She pulled down the blood-soaked cloak and stared at the gaping wound as it shrank smaller and smaller, finally disappearing right before her eyes. “What the heck?” she gasped between breaths. “What’s going on? The wound’s gone—no redness, no pain, and not even a scar.”
Frank ran a hand over the smooth skin where the wound once was. “How’s this possible?”
Jules looked at Frank, his eyes widening in shock. “It’s true. She’s an Immortal!” He gasped. “She is one of them.”
“What?” Frank asked, his mouth agape with shock. “Because she put on this bubblegum machine ring of his?”
“I don’t get it. Why?” Sarah said, confusion filling her voice. “It’s just a ring.”
Jules lifted her hand, peering down at the jewelry. “This is not just any ring, miss. It’s a powerful, ancient one, thousands of years old, and it obviously carries the power of transforming one into an Immortal being.”
A shudder of fear ran through her. “Get it off right now! Find some grease or butter, whatever it takes!” She pulled at the band with all her might, wincing in pain. “That knight—he said they could stop evil by killing me. What the heck did that mean? Do they think I’m the devil or something?”
“I don’t know, but I am sure they are mistaken. I’ve only known you a short while, but I know you are not evil.” Jules touched her shoulder. “Stop, Sarah. No amount of lubricant will allow you to remove that ring.”
“I didn’t ask for this.” Sarah fell into Frank’s arms, and he held her tight. “Why didn’t Victor warn me I’d become a walking freak show? Although, I guess I should feel grateful. Without this ring, I’d be dead right now.”
“He doesn’t know you are human,” Frank said.
She had no idea Victor was Immortal either, like something straight out of some crazy Highlander movie. He wasn’t going around shouting “There can be only one!” or anything, but maybe I should’ve picked up on some small sign. Her senses had been heightened, but she had assumed that only meant the ring had some strange magical properties. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined herself becoming Immortal. “I-I don’t understand any of this.”
Frank ran a hand through her hair. “We’re going to figure this out together, I promise. We’ll undo the ring’s curse somehow, Sarah. There has to be a way. But first, we have to figure out why there’s so much heat on us.” He looked at Jules. “Why are King William’s men trying to kill Sarah?”
His brows furrowed. “I don’t know. Perhaps they are angry because we brought Victor’s wife over here, into their territory.”
“No, that can’t be it. Notice they didn’t shoot us,” Frank said. “Sarah had a bull’s-eye on her back, and they were aiming to kill.”
Jules shook his head. “They hate Victor, and I have no doubt they’d hate his wife too.”
“It must be the reason why Victor warned me not to come to Dornia…into enemy territory. How good is your witness protection program out here?” she joked halfheartedly.
Jules cocked an eyebrow.
Sarah waved her hand. “Never mind. Listen, King William is just mad because I pretended to be his daughter, Princess Gloria. Think identity theft. Maybe I brought disgrace to her name somehow, and that’s why they think I’m evil.”
Snap! Outside, someone or something stepped on a twig.
Frank rose to his feet and motioned for them to be silent. When nothing moved, he inched closer, whispering, “We need a game plan. Let’s find Liz…and quick.”
“But how?” Sarah asked. “Everyone’s after us. I’m on the most wanted lists of two kings.”
“There might be a third party after us as well,” Jules said with a sigh. “Sarah was turned into an Immortal without permission from the Cardashian Court. They’ll send trackers the second they find out, if they haven’t already.”
She slapped her forehead. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“The Cardashian Court has their own justice and trials,” Jules said.
“Is Victor in tro
uble with the court for making me Immortal?” Sarah asked. “Maybe that’s why he’s after me.”
“For payback?” Jules shook his head. “How could he get in trouble? He didn’t knowingly marry a mortal behind their back. He thought he was marrying an Immortal princess. He is guilty of nothing in this. In spite of their propensity for swift justice, even the Cardashians should see that. They are very wise.”
“Then he’s only out for revenge, because we tricked him and likely made a fool of him.” Sarah took a trembling breath, her shoulders slumping. “Can this get any worse? It’s like being chased by the FBI, the police, and the Italian mafia all in one night.”
“Had much experience with any of that?” Frank asked, grinning.
Sarah slapped the back of his head.
He shrugged. “What? At least you don’t need a bulletproof jacket. I’ve heard they are harder to come by than the actual weapons.”
She slugged him again. “Focus, Frank.”
“The Immortals from the Cardashian Court will likely give you a speedy trial and then kill you,” Jules said. “We know King William’s men will definitely kill you. As for King Victor, I don’t know his intentions, but he could be the lesser of the evils. You could have a chance with him—especially if you give yourself up and quit running.”
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Wow. I’m overcome with so many wonderful options, aren’t I? Let’s see…courtroom and likely death, definite death, and making babies with a king I barely know. I’ve no idea which one to choose.”
“Try to look at it from another perspective, Sarah. You didn’t die before. If they try to kill you, you might just weasel out of it with the help of that ring,” Frank said.
Sarah groaned. “Awesome. I’ve always wanted to know what it feels like to be a zombie.”
“Then my advice would be to take your chances with Victor,” Jules said softly.
She glared at him. Take a chance with Victor? She remembered those dangerous eyes he flashed her, warning her not to escape. She also remembered the way he’d gripped her wrist and told her she’d pay dearly if she ever tried. A chill ran up her spine. “No way! I don’t know why or how, but I can feel his anger and bitterness from my betrayal. He is after revenge, and he has a reputation to maintain.”
Darlings of Paranormal Romance (Anthology) Page 21